


A moment's notice

by BlackHoleInSpace



Category: Brave New World - Aldous Huxley, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley's cottage (Character), Gen, God (watching shit go down), implied/referenced aziraphale/crowley, random embryos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHoleInSpace/pseuds/BlackHoleInSpace
Summary: He had also seen another room [...]. He had seen how over eighty dozens of baby beds were placed in the room and had heard the same recording being played over and over again, like a lullaby.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Kudos: 3





	A moment's notice

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while, huh? Long-term writer's block is really a killer move from my lack of motivation, really. Luckily, school made me read an extract of something truly inspiring AND interesting and here we are!
> 
> Work heavily inspired by (or even an AU of) Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World"!

He was running. Or perhaps only his legs and feet were, for his mind was somewhere entirely else.

He could remember the past few hours like a vivid dream. Blurry yet contrasting with the fear clouding his mind well enough to elicit almost every detail from the bigger picture. The image was now embedded into his mind, the tremors of his sudden waves of emotion refusing to subside.

He had seen a lot. And he had seen them all. He had seen a vast sall covered wall to wall in statistics printed neatly on white paper. He had seen the terrors of it, the countless incubators with human embryos connected to sources labelled as air. Next to these stood robust machines indicating a percentage, that of the amount of air provided to the given resident. He had seen that, too. He had seen men dressed in white alter those numbers, shout at the machines and even take some with them, to other salls. He had seen another room, wherein a horde of babies was sat. Those toddlers would be given either a book or a flower to play with for the time being; they would either bite, lick or hug tightly the given object. Afterwards, loud noises would be produced by another range of elaborate machines and the babies would cry their eyes out. He had seen how, afterwards, not a single one of them would dare hug, bite or lick a book or a flower ever again.

He had also seen another room, one which his two fathers had told him a fairly terrifying story of: children here would be induced categorical thinking and would be forced to think in one way and one way only - ranks. He had seen how over eighty dozens of baby beds were placed in the room and had heard the same recording being played over and over again, like a lullaby. _A lethal one, though_ , he had thought as he was hearing the voice speak for the fifth time.

The quiet yet stern voice said, " _...all wear green garment, whilst deltas wear it khaki. Oh no, I would not want to play with delta children. Epsilons, on the other hand, are even stupider. They're so stupid, they can't even read or write. Moreover, they dress all black, this horrendous colour. Ah, I'm so glad to be a beta…". It would then pause and continue with, "Alfian children wear gray garment. They work much harder than us because they are so, so smart. I am extremely glad to be a beta, as I need not work as hard as they do. Besides, we are much better than gammas and deltas. Gammas are stupid. They all wear green garment, whilst deltas wear it khaki. Oh no, I would not want to play with delta children. Epsilons, on the other hand, are even stupider. They're so stupid, they…_ [*]". Every of the present children would murmur a repetition of what it had just heard before falling peacefully asleep.

And then he had managed to escape. He had ran and could only guess that he was not left fugitive. They had come after him, in hope to attain him and perhaps situate him with those other children and brainwash him, too. He knew they were closing up to him.

They were watching. They had been watching from the very beginning, he realised. They'd known the exact second he would set foot in the facility. They knew what he was thinking, how wheels in his mind were clicking into place, determining, one last time, the risk he was taking. Those people had decided to taunt him, scare him, give him an easy but elaborate scare before chasing him throughout the building, enjoying this little impromptu game of cat and mouse they'd organised. And in this dog eat dog world, he could only be the frail and worthless mouse. _Bloody sadists!_ he cursed inwardly. That is all they were, by now that had morphed from a mere impression to an undeniable fact. They enjoyed the show his distress provided them.

With a heart racing quicker than sunlight reaches Earth during daytime he swung his body right and ducked under the nearest overhanging roof he could spot. His oversensible skin grazed a thin layer of mould, an unpleasant smell reached his nostrils. _The epsilon domain! I must already be in the outskirts then_ , he thought, hand blindly touching a near wall to guide him in the darkness. He grabbed a fistful of his hazelnut locks, which, in the dark, looked almost like shiny cobalt, and teared them from before his eyes. He knew he was close.

Wind blew, chasing a few clouds and revealing a pearly white moon hung up amongst many white dots on the night sky. If there had been any trees nearby, they would have waved their branches right and left, as if calling for help. Instead, a deafening silence was set, the only sounds resonating being the curly-haired's light footsteps as he hurried to a medium-sized cottage distanced ever so slightly from the other houses.

At first glance, it was in no way characteristic. Just as all the other buildings it was damaged, gray and definitely had at least a century's history of inhabitants. It had a singular window on the left and a wooden sign could be seen decorating the right wall - " _The Devil's Hollow_ ". Delving deeper into its appearance, however, a few things could be noticed: a wooden door, a few signs of nature here and there, a metal cock on top of the roof. All of those, however minimal, were clear distinguishing features, for no other inhabitant dared be so extravagant and obvious in their tastes.

The boy approached the cottage as though it were his own home and knocked twice, paused, then repeated the two previous knocks. He stood, foot tapping the cold ground, shivering, his nerves eating him from the inside out of sheer anticipation.

As if by magic, the door opened in a hurry. A short, round man with curly white hair, dressed in a simple, gray garment, briefly stepped outside, grabbed him by the forearm and gently but firmly dragged him inside. He could register the door being closed behind him as he attempted to stand straight and catch his breath. 

The inside of the cottage was modest, even for an alpha living in the outskirts of the most modern city one could ever begin to imagine. Most of the furniture was white or wooden, all except for a black, leather couch in the left corner and a pair of green curtains covering the nearest window. The entire place bathed in the white, dim light coming from the outside.

"Adam! Oh dear Lord, look at yourself, you're all filthy!" said the short man, sweeping a careful hand over the boy's clothes in order to remove any dust from his body. His blue eyes, hidden behind tiny, round glasses, expressed worry, "No matter. You must hide this instant!" 

After saying so he called further into the cottage: "Crowley, dear, if you'd be so kind as to come here for a moment!"

Footsteps were heard. In contrast to his white-haired counterpart, the second man was much taller. His long, wavy hair resembled fire aflame and his visibly inhuman, amber eyes were cut off access to by a pair of dark shades. He wore a black overall and only a polished, golden ring shining in his ring finger contrasted from his leading colour scheme.

"Hey, wee chum," said the newly arrived, giving a lopsided, sharp-toothed grin, "Got your wee-wees into trouble, didn't ya?" his eyes sparkled behind his shades as he looked over to his shorter counterpart.

"Crowley, that is no laughing matter!" said the other man, sighing heavily. He put a hand on Adam's shoulder and left it there for the time being, "We must get you a safe place to hide, now, or they will get you, and we do not wish for that to happen."

Giving the boy's shoulder a friendly and tender squeeze, he continued: 

"Hurry now, dear boy, in the basement you go, or they will find you!" hurried the short alpha, directing Adam towards a minute trapdoor, expertly hidden behind an impressive strand of tapestry, "I will do my best to hold them off as long as I can but you must remain by all means silent; do not move a muscle."

Adam was then rapidly ushered down the dark room the trapdoor opened a passage to. He slid rather than marched down the ladder and sat himself on the cold ground. He let his eyes adjust to the dark and wander around the place he found himself in; at first glance, he was alone. 

As he heard the front door open, the alpha's plea resonated. Shortly after, he was silenced by something that could only be compared to the cracking of a human neck and a lifeless body being dragged over the floor. It appeared the epsilon, Crowley, attempted something as well but to no avail; no sooner did he soundly launch himself at whatever opponent he was facing was he taken down by force. A body which was presumably his fell limp to the ground.

They had taken them, they had them now, them, who just attempted a suicide mission to protect him. Them who had spent their entire lives hiding from the outer world and thus breaking the law of the _World Republic_ [*] to gift him the best life he could live as a citizen of the _Society_ [*]. Them who had been his legal guardians, his parents, when he most needed them. 

The curly-haired boy felt a deep sob rouse in his chest and hung his head down like a beaten dog. Was it any use hiding anymore? Perhaps. Hoping for the best at least for himself now, he drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.

If, a while later, sound footsteps and a deafening slam of the basement trapdoor being opened in one hasty movement resonated in the distance, it was only those three words said right afterwards that truly caught his attention. His mind turned into a mush as his breathing shallowed.

" _Community, identity, stability._ [*]"

**Author's Note:**

> [*] - quotes/mentions directly from the book, free-translated from another language by me.


End file.
